


Three Bad Ideas In One Week

by Vorvayne



Category: Bleach
Genre: Fluff, I'm pretty sure I actually managed happy smut, Light D/s, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Renji is daft, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-28 08:01:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vorvayne/pseuds/Vorvayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clearly, Renji is never going to live this week down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Bad Ideas In One Week

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been writing this in fits and starts for a while, to cheer myself up while writing my loooong Yumichika backstory fic. I decided to finish it up today, because it's Byarenlover's birthday and she deserves smut on her birthday (that's how you do birthday presents, right?)
> 
> I think I've managed sweet fluff and smut for the first time ever, also. I'm not sure how I feel about this, but I hope you like anyway!

Renji thinks that this is probably the worst idea he’s ever had. And he’s had a fair few bad ideas.

 

Watching and studying Kuchiki Byakuya made sense, if Renji wanted to surpass him. Accepting a lieutenancy at the sixth made sense too.

 

This - _this_ made no sense at all. It was, in fact, almost suicidally stupid. Not that that’s ever really stopped him.

 

Byakuya is looking at him almost blankly, but there’s something about his eyes that says, _Have you lost your mind?_ Renji probably has bare seconds before Byakuya throws him, with great dignity, at the wall, and goes to fetch disciplinary paperwork, so he lets go of Byakuya’s shihakusho and takes lots of backward steps.

  
“Uh - sorry,” he says. “I - I don’t know what came over me. Just - forget about it.”

 

Byakuya is doing an extremely convincing impression of a marble statue. Renji wonders if he’s about to see his captain _angry,_ a mythical thing that the third seat barely hints at when giving new recruits the arrival speech, but no one that Renji knows of has ever actually seen.

 

“I’ll go,” Renji says. “Sorry,” he adds, for good measure.

 

“Do.” Byakuya speaks, finally. It doesn’t really improve things.

 

Renji tries not to run out of the office.

 

-

 

It’s desperately awkward in the office after what Renji is now privately calling _the incident_ , to avoid thinking too much about the fact that he _kissed his captain. On purpose._ Without _any sort_ of decent excuse.  

 

In fairness, he has to admit that it’s him that’s awkward, mostly - looking too long at Byakuya’s face for evidence that he’s about to be slapped with a disciplinary order, and saying “Hai,Taichou!” slightly too quickly after Byakuya has finished speaking.

 

As far as Renji can tell, Byakuya is behaving exactly the same as before.   
  
And it’s driving him _crazy_.

 

-

 

Renji decides against telling Rukia; he’s not sure whether she’d laugh at him, hit him, or - worse - say something to Byakuya. He really, really doesn’t want to make the situation any worse than it already is.

 

So when Yumichika wanders over on his lunch break to tell him that he is coming out drinking with everyone from the eleventh and no arguments, because he looks like a man who needs to get utterly fucked (hah, Renji thinks. Maybe he just hasn’t got laid in way too long, and that’s responsible for the insanity), he agrees instantly. Even though he has work again tomorrow.

 

Renji turns up attempting cheerful, and his evening gets better when someone shoves a beer in front of him. He drinks deeply and grins, because Ikkaku and Iba are arm-wrestling and Yumichika is rolling his eyes and there’s shouting _everywhere_ , and it’s pretty comforting to know that some things never change.

 

“So,” Yumichika says. “How’s life at the sixth these days?” The look on his face is entirely innocent, and Renji suddenly just _knows_ that he’s not going to escape until Yumichika has pried everything out of him.

 

He gives up. Groaning, he places his forehead against the wooden table and mutters, “Could be worse.”

 

“Hmm,” Yumichika says and then, over his shoulder, “Get this man some sake immediately.”

 

He lifts his head and finds Yumichika and Ikkuka looking at him expectantly. There’s suddenly a bottle of sake in front of him, mostly full. “Go on, drink up,” Ikkaku says. “We’ll wait.”

 

“That bad, mm?” Yumichika adds, as Renji’s taking off the cap and up-ending the bottle into his mouth.

 

He swallows. “Worse.”

 

Yumichika and Ikkaku share a glance. “Down it,” is the verdict.

 

The fact that Renji does as instructed probably says it all, really. By the time he’s at the end of the bottle he can feel the alcohol kicking in.

 

“So,” Yumichika says, examining his fingernails. “What did you do?”

 

“Spill,” Ikkaku says. “You look worse than that time you had to walk home in Kira’s underwear because you couldn’t find your clothes.”

 

Renji winces. “Do you have to bring that up? I feel crap enough already.” So, yeah, he’d gone home with Kira. And they’d had sex - probably, though he was damned if he could remember any of it and Kira was either too polite or too embarrassed to share what _he_ remembered. His clothes had turned up later, on the floor of Kira’s closet, even though he’d woken up in Kira’s bed.

 

“We’re just going to bring up embarrassing incidents until you tell us this one. Like that time at the host club - ”

 

“ _All right,_ ” Renji interrupts. “I. Uh. I may have kissed my captain.”

 

Silence.

 

“Let me just check I heard that right: you kissed Kuchiki-taichou. And - you’re still alive?” Yumichika is leaning forward with interest, while Ikkaku is looking at him like a man on death row.

 

“Um,” Renji says, and the sake’s _really_ beginning to kick in now because what falls out of his mouth is, “He smiled at me. Maybe. It’s hard to tell, I think he’s out of practise.” And then, when this doesn’t seem to make his two friends understand any better, “He’s really pretty when he smiles.”

 

“You’re insane,” Yumichika says flatly.

 

Ikkaku claps him on the shoulder with the force of a small landslide. “Still, if he were going to kill you, you’d be dead already.”

 

Renji shrugs. “I dunno. He didn’t react at all. I’m still waiting for him to dismiss me, or something, but it’s as if he’s pretending that it didn’t happen. I mean, why would he bother?” He’s out of sake, and this suddenly seems like a tragedy. His beer is still on the table, though, so he reaches for that and drinks deeply.  

 

Ikkaku shrugs. “Who fuckin’ knows with Kuchiki? Crazy bastard.”

 

Yumichika sighs, and pats the back of Renji’s hand. Renji swats at him ineffectually; his arm seems to be working on enough of a delay to throw everything off. “Well,” Yumichika says. “He _is_ pretty, it’s true. But I think you should thank your lucky stars that you’re still alive and pretend that nothing happened.”

 

Renji nods, and downs the rest of his beer. “I like him,” he says to the bottom of his beer glass.

 

“Eh?” Renji doesn’t need to look up to know what expression Ikkaku’s wearing.

 

“Oh, dear. It’s worse than we thought.” Yumichika snakes one finger under Renji’s chin and lifts his head up. “It’s been a while, ne? You need to go fuck someone.”

 

“Fuck off,” Renji mumbles. “Oi, can I get another beer?”

 

-

 

“Abarai-fukutaichou.”

 

Renji stirs. Oh gods, his head hurts, and his eyelids might be glued shut.

 

“ _Renji_.”

 

“Huh?!” Renji sits up abruptly and finds that he was hanging off the edge of the bed just before he hits the floor with a painful _thud_ that still doesn’t overwhelm the exploding sensation at the base of his skull. “Oh god.”

 

Byakuya is standing in front of him in full captain’s uniform, looking deeply unimpressed.

 

“Um,” Renji says, and he’s tangled up in his sheets at Byakuya’s feet, and at least fifty per cent of him wants to _die of humiliation_ because he’s naked except for the sheet. Which is doing a crap job of covering him. He wraps it more tightly around his waist and stands unsteadily. “So...how come you’re in my bedroom, Taichou?”

 

Byakuya sighs. “You are late for work.”

 

“Shit! Uh, sorry,” he looks around for his clothes and thank god, Yumichika piled them onto a chair. He’s halfway over to fetch them when he does a double-take. “Taichou...not that I don’t appreciate it, but you didn’t have to come yourself.”

 

Byakuya makes a noncommittal gesture with one hand, and maybe he’s a bit uncomfortable? “Your apartment is attached to the sixth,” he says by way of explanation.

 

Renji is standing holding his clothes, and he really needs a drink of water and a piss. “Uh. I’m going to - get dressed and head over. Sorry. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

 

Byakuya nods, putting his long-suffering expression back on, and sweeps out.

 

Renji sits back down on the bed for a moment to clutch his aching head and groan. He is never going to live this week down. 

-  
  
To make matters worse, Byakuya won’t stop _staring_ at him now. Renji isn’t sure whether Byakuya’s wondering what’s got into his lieutenant (Renji himself has no idea at all), or whether he’s wondering if he should get a new one. Or, you know, something else entirely, like _Renji has more tattoos than I realised_ , but that’s probably just wishful thinking. The only evidence that Renji has that Byakuya’s ever even had sex with another person is the fact that he was married and - well - this isn’t really a point in Renji’s favour.

 

He knows he’s doomed when he finds Byakuya standing in his office as he arrives for work one morning. “Good morning, Taichou!” He says, and his body snaps to attention, probably in the vain hope that this will save him.

 

Byakuya does not return the greeting. Instead, he looks at Renji intently. Renji gulps. “This is not a discussion about work; you need not call me ‘Taichou’.”

 

“Er,” Renji panicks. “What do I call you, then - Kuchiki-sama?” This last causes a minute flicker of Byakuya’s eyebrows, and - is that the slightest of blushes beginning on the bridge of his nose? Well, this is making no sense whatsoever. 

“That will do,” Byakuya says, and clears his throat. “The pertinent question is: what are your intentions regarding my sister?”

 

For one terrifying second, Renji’s mind is completely blank. Then he manages, “W-well, I, uh, I was planning to grab lunch with her tomorrow, if that’s what you mean.” Because if he doesn’t talk to someone - someone sensible that is - about Byakuya’s weird behaviour soon he is going to go nuts and, well, if he’s fired, she’s pretty good at cheering him up. Maybe she’ll even make chibi drawings of angry Byakuya and it won’t be so bad.

 

“That is _not_ what I meant, Renji.”

 

Renji’s beginning to sweat, at this point. “Er,” he says, and he’s aware he’s not getting points for articulation, but honestly, he has _no idea what’s going on_. “Then - I’m sorry, but I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about, Tai- uh, Kuchiki-sama.” And there it is again, that flicker at the corner of his eyes whenever Renji says _Kuchiki-sama_. He wants, almost, to repeat it over and over until he finds out what it is, but - he values his life, and he’s done enough stupid things this week.

 

Byakuya breathes out slowly, as if he’s having to try very hard to remain patient. “I am enquiring about your and Rukia’s relationship. I did not wish to do so - ” Byakuya pinches the bridge of his nose. “ - but given your inappropriate behaviour earlier this week, and your lateness yesterday morning, it seems I must otherwise your work will continue to be affected.”

 

For a long  moment, all Renji can do is stare blankly at Byakuya. Then, an idea strikes. He can’t possibly make this any worse, right? Right? “Kuchiki-sama...are you saying that you think something’s happening between me and Rukia because I kissed you?”

 

Byakuya’s expression is beginning to congeal. “I could not, in the end, draw any other conclusion. Clearly - ”

 

“What? You actually thought this through, and decided that I kissed you because, I dunno, I’m incapable of differentiating between you and Rukia?” Renji tugs at his ponytail, and just manages to hold in _are you crazy?_

 

“In which case, I must ask you to explain your behaviour.” Byakuya looks away, then, as if he’s having difficulty meeting Renji’s eyes.

 

Renji doesn’t blame him. He’s sure he must be going tomato-red with how hot his face is, because seriously, he does not want to be having this conversation. “I’m not sure you’re gonna want to hear this, Kuchiki-sama,” and there’s that twitch again. “But, uh. I kissed you because I like you. I know I shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry, but - it was just because of you.” He takes a breath. “And I’m sorry about the being late, too. We don’t have to talk about this.”

 

Byakuya looks about as uncomfortable as Renji has ever seen him, which is impressive, because Byakuya has two main ways of being, and one is cold and the other is awkward. They’re not that easily differentiable, really, but Renji thinks even the rest of the squad would manage to pick up Byakuya’s uncertain mood if they could see him now. “I...see,” Byakuya manages at length.

 

Renji stamps down on the urge to shuffle his feet, and does his very best to meet Byakuya’s eyes, but his gaze is stuck at shoulder level. They’re very nice shoulders, actually and - this isn’t helping. He looks back at his feet. “Kuchiki-sama, I - ”

 

“Stop calling me that,” Byakuya says, almost snapping, and Renji is so surprised that manages to look up at Byakuya’s face. Byakuya’s _pink-tinged_ face.

 

“Sorry, Kuchiki-sama- that is, sorry, Taichou.” He licks his lips briefly; his mouth has gone almost entirely dry. Byakuya’s hands are clenching and unclenching at his sides, Renji notices, and he’s shifting his weight a little, and...oh.   
  
Well. This is unexpected.   
  
Renji has two choices here: he can either apologise again and leave with his career about as intact as it can be under the circumstances; or, he can do the third stupid thing he’s thought of this week. He looks at Byakuya’s chest, rising and falling visibly with quicker breaths than usual, and he’s as sure as he’s ever going to be.

 

Renji takes two steps forward and slides as smoothly as he can to his knees, right in front of Byakuya. He looks up. “May I serve, Kuchiki-sama?”

 

“ _Renji_.” It’s clearly supposed to be a reprimand, but it comes out like a groan. Renji can feel the heat radiating from Byakuya’s body, which is unusual for him; his skin is normally cool. Renji doesn’t know exactly how he knows that. He lowers his gaze, and waits. “The office is...not an appropriate venue…” Byakuya manages, and his voice is much rougher than Renji is used to. Of course, Renji finds it unbearably sexy, much like the rest of Byakuya.

 

“You know where my apartment is, Kuchiki-sama,” Renji says, and one hand briefly reaches out to trail down his jaw. He shivers, eyes closing.

 

“Get up and go,” Byakuya says, and he sounds a little less unsteady. Renji stands obediently. As he leaves, Byakuya’s voice follows him: “I expect to find you there this evening, then.”

 

It’s an order, delivered in Byakuya’s most commanding tone. Renji has to bite his lip to hold back a moan as he attempts to remember where his own office is located.

 

-

 

The rest of the day is pure torture.

  
Renji’s brain keeps handily replaying bits of the, um, _conversation_ in Byakuya’s office earlier. Like the slight tremor of Byakuya’s hand as it touched his face, Byakuya’s blush which starts from the bridge of his nose and spreads softly outwards, and his reaction to being called ‘Kuchiki-sama’.

 

Renji did not see that one coming, not in a million years, when he first kissed Byakuya a little under a week ago. He leaves the office at exactly 6pm, rushes back to his apartment, showers (and very definitely doesn’t have a wank, although it’s a close one because he would rather not come in his hakama), brushes his teeth, combs his hair, makes a quick bowl of noodles, cleans a bit, and finally sits down on his bed, vibrating with pent-up sexual tension. Laughing at his own ridiculousness, he pulls out a book and attempts to actually read it instead of dwelling on Byakuya’s hoarse voice when he’s turned on. 

This plan is a complete failure. But it doesn’t matter much, because when Byakuya turns up - minus kenseikan but still in his uniform and haori - all of Renji’s blood goes south anyway.

 

Byakuya pauses a step away from Renji and clears his throat. “Are you - quite sure about this?” And for all that Byakuya looks steady, Renji is sure there’s a tiny hint of nervousness there. Maybe it’s been a while.

 

He pulls the tie out of his hair, and takes one step closer. “Yes, Kuchiki-sama,” he says, and he knows it worked when Byakuya’s eyes squeeze shut for a moment and he takes a swift inbreath.

 

A moment later there’s a hand grasping the hair at the base of Renji’s skull and he’s being tortured with light, brushing kisses. Every time he tries to reach forward the hand in his hair tightens, and he can’t get to what he wants. Then Byakuya tugs down, and he finds himself on the floor on his knees, and the impact was not soft but he doesn’t care. He swallows, and waits for permission. “You may serve,” Byakuya says.

 

It’s all the encouragement Renji needs. He reaches and undoes the ties of Byakuya’s hakama, trying to swallow his impatience. He takes Byakuya’s cock into his mouth, and finds himself releasing a satisfied hum.

 

He’s determined to do this right, so he pulls out every trick he knows, and Byakuya encourages him with that infernal hand in his hair - God, who told Byakuya that he likes his hair pulled? - and low, rough sounds. Renji desperately wants to reach one hand into his own hakama, because he’s halfway there already, but he manages to resist only because he wants to know what Byakuya is going to do.

 

Byakuya’s hips begin to twitch minutely, so Renji drops his hands, relaxes his throat and pushes forwards till his nose brushes Byakuya’s stomach. _It’s all right, you can if you like_ , he thinks, and if they’re going to do this they’re going to have to have a conversation, later, but for now Renji swallows and hums encouragement, and Byakuya holds his hair and thrusts carefully into his mouth. He doesn’t last much longer, and Renji is half pleased with himself and half insane with the need to remove clothes and press close to Byakuya and _come_.

 

Byakuya pushes him back until he’s sprawled across the bed, then leans over him. One long-fingered hand slips around his throat and pins him down, and Renji can feel how strong Byakuya is through the weight of it; much stronger than he looks, strong enough to hold Renji down should he struggle. He doesn’t want to struggle, not today, and when Byakuya leans close enough to count his eyelashes and just stays there, Renji doesn’t feel ashamed to say, “Please, Kuchiki-sama.” The look on Byakuya’s face would be worth it anyway, even if he were, but it doesn’t make sense to Renji to be ashamed of something they both want.

 

Byakuya curls his other hand around Renji’s cock and begins to stroke, torturously slowly. He’s good with his hands, of course; even sitting alone in his office his every movement is precise and careful, as if he’s dedicated himself to the art of minute control of his body. Renji has thought about those hands quite a lot, but his imagination didn’t do him justice.

 

There’s no point in trying to control himself, so Renji gives himself up to the moans and jerks of his body that Byakuya is drawing out of him. Byakuya watches him closely, and he’s clearly getting something out of Renji’s performance, but that’s all right with Renji. He isn’t going to last like this, and he tries to think of something unappealing but Byakuya leans forward a fraction and kisses him, tongue thrusting into Renji’s mouth, and it’s hopeless. He’s stuck imagining what it will be like to be pinned to the nearest available surface and fucked expertly, and Byakuya’s hair is falling into his face, and he’s gone.

 

Byakuya pulls back just enough to growl, “Beg for it, or I will deprive you.” Cruelly, he doesn’t stop moving, and Renji has to dig his nails into his palm to hang on to his sanity.

 

He knows what Byakuya wants, and it won’t make it any easier to hold back. “Please, Kuchiki-sama, can I come?” The answering shudder through Byakuya’s body makes Renji wonder if anyone has ever done this with Byakuya, indulged his fantasies like this.

“Ten,” Byakuya says, and bites gently at the skin under Renji’s jaw. “Nine.” He bites again, further down Renji’s neck, and Renji understands what he’s expected to do, and a whine escapes his throat because he’s honestly not sure if he _can_. “Eight.” He hopes Byakuya doesn’t think that biting his neck is going to make it any easier to hang on.

 

“Seven.” Each bite is a little harder than the last. “Six.” Renji can feel sweat running in rivulets down his shaking legs, pooling behind his knees. “Five.” It feels like the intervals are getting longer, and his hands fist uselessly in the sheets. “Four.” He would beg again, if he thought he could make his voice form words. “Three.” Byakuya leans up to bite at Renji’s mouth, but draws away before Renji can return the harsh kiss. “Two.” He’s going to either come or pass out or both, he’ll _die_ if he can’t, and Byakuya has somehow maintained the same rhythm for what must, surely, be hours. “One.” Something like a sob escapes his throat; he can’t stop his hips from jerking up to meet Byakuya’s hand, and he can’t, can’t hold back for even another second -   
  
“Come _now_ ,” Byakuya says, and sinks his teeth into Renji’s shoulder with a snarl.

 

Renji’s vision explodes into white nothingness as his body’s release overwhelms all his other senses. His orgasm lasts halfway to forever, and when he comes to, gasping for breath, he’s somehow twisted most of the way over onto his stomach.

 

“Fuck,” he manages. “If you’re trying to kill me, there’s easier ways.”

 

For a brief instant, there’s a flicker of a smile. “I assure you, I much prefer you alive.” A pause, and Byakuya’s expression flattens again. “If you wish me to depart, I will.”

 

Renji rolls his eyes, rummages with one hand for the covers - his arm muscles seem not to be working, but he manages - and pulls it haphazardly over them. “Don’t be daft.”

 

There’s a moment where Byakuya is still, as if holding his breath, and then he relaxes. “You know,” Renji mumbles into Byakuya’s shoulder. “We’re going to have to think of something for me to call you in my off hours. Kuchiki-sama seems, uh, like it should stay private.”

 

Renji isn’t sure if he imagined a quiet snort in response.

 

He thinks back to that kiss in Byakuya’s office, and with a smile he relabels it in his mind _Best Idea Ever_.

  


**Author's Note:**

> I can be found at vorvayne.tumblr.com and vorvayne.deviantart.com being pretty daft and posting bleach boys and such.


End file.
